Total Power Exchange
by Konata101
Summary: Russia and America embark on a fantastic journey together, and discover some interesting secrets about each other along the way. Russia/America, bondage, sadomasochism, public indecency, dubcon/noncon, and mild scat. A fun-filled tale for the whole family!


**whoaaaa hey you guys remember me? ****i'm kona and i like poo poo**

**Anyways. Before I begin, uh... Lemme talk 'bout my other fics for a sec. (Dang it's been forever since I wrote a dumb Author's Note heh) **

**_Peaches:_ I'm stiiiiill working on editing Chapter 3 gnghgh.  
_Don't Surround:_ That one's... um,, its on a long hiatus, as you can see. u.u I don't want to say it's dropped, though.  
_Defrag:_ i'LL GET BACK TO WORK ON IT SOMEDAY I PROMISE. Same with _International Mpreg._  
_Among The Stars:_ IT! HAS BEEN! PICKED BACK UP! WOWZA! AND CHAPTER 3 MIGHT BE OUT SOMETIME IN FEBRUARY OR SO? No promises.  
_KONA X NATUN:_ Ahh, yes. First fic of mine that got the banhammer. I'll reupload the whole thing to ask-konda sometime though.  
**

**OKAY. SO. NOW WITH ALL THAT OUT OF THE WAY...**

**This here oneshot's a Christmas treat for my pal Zane. And I hope it's a treat for ya'll as well uwu**

**WARNINGS: Well, pffft, the title is _Total Power Exchange_ so expect some hardcore dom-sub relationship stuff here. Also kind of dubcon/noncon in some spots. And mild scat content too :3c TL;DR This fic is really fucked up but I don't wanna give out any specifics without spoiling half the "plot" so just be careful okay? okay. **

**As usual, enjoy. :D**

* * *

It's Thursday. 18:25 sharp.

Or in other words, it's evening walkies time for America! He'd been _such_ a good boy, holding in his business through the whole entire World Conference. To think it went overtime, too! And he almost upheld the promise he'd made, to not speak unless spoken to… But sadly, almost wasn't good enough. He was still too rowdy during that conference.

Ah well, it'd all be out of his system soon enough.

* * *

"You are certain about this?"

"…yeah."

"You sound hesitant there."

"I'm not! I just-"

Russia didn't dare interrupt him. Whatever direction this affair took, the former world superpower would do anything to keep his hands immaculate. So, instead of pressing America for elaboration on his apparent predicament, Russia opted to completely avert his eyes.

"I just don't know. I want to do this. I really, really want it. I need it. But I don't know."

"Amerika. If you say _I don't know_, then it is no. That is final."

"But I just said I wanted it, dammit!"

Russia stared at him. Now, he didn't intend to appear intimidating. He was going into this deal as an innocent party, and would emerge as such. But somehow, those violets were just enough to cut into America's psyche.

The mere sight of them prompted a rare shudder out of the young nation.

"Ahh… You _are_ doing this of own volition, yes?"

"Wow, nice. So you think I'm someone else's bitch? That's uh- That ain't fucked up at all. Whoa."

The older nation felt like chuckling at that, but managed to control himself. God, Fredka was so temperamental. So cute. It wasn't like Russia was disgusted by the kind of relationship America was proposing here.

But America could easily be trying to ensnare him here.

"My pardons. I don't know what I was thinking. So, ah, if you're certain about this… We will begin. But first- You can back out. Any time. No string attached."

"Ughh, you stupid fuckin' fuck!"

Russia lurched backwards, ready to defend himself if America released that sudden burst of anger. Although his hands flailed about, scouting for something to break, they refrained from grabbing onto Russia's scarf.

Heh, well, America wasn't entirely idiotic. Perhaps even in the midst of his rage, he knew he'd never be able to hold a gun straight if he ended up tearing Russia's beloved scarf.

"I don't know how many times I've said this, but you just don't fuckin' get it- Dammit. I _don't _want the option to back out. At all! Okay? Did I make myself clear?"

America leaned forward, mere centimeters from Russia's face. Now that he was the one to initiate a staredown, he wasn't nearly as panicky.

Yes, panicky. Best description of that cute little flinch he did a few moments ago.

"I'm gonna make my life mean something. And this is how I'm gonna do it."

"I see. Very well. I do anything you want me to do, yes?"

As soon as Russia said that, America pulled away with fervor, shrieking like a banshee all the while. God, he seriously needed to stop that – stop being a grossly stereotypical psychiatric patient, or whatever the hell he was trying to do. Russia had asked America repeatedly if he was feeling alright. After all, he'd be nothing more than a monster if he took advantage of someone who was clearly out of their mind.

"Ha! Hahahaha! You already got it all mixed up! No, it goes like this. You tell me what to do. I do it. Baddabing baddaboom, it's kindergarten shit. Okay? Okay. We're good now?"

"_Da._"

"A'ight. That's good."

With that, America tossed his jacket aside. Followed by his button-up shirt. And soon enough, everything that had clothed his body was gone.

"…there it goes." He stared at the garments below his feet. "There goes my right to say no to any commands you throw at me. Hahaha! Bye!"

Russia stepped towards America – glorious and young and nude – and gently embraced him.

Little did America know… No matter what he said, he _still_ held the right to end the relationship.

However, Russia simply wouldn't reveal that he could. Unless America asked him, of course. That was a given. Because there was no way Russia would allow himself to be painted as an abuser, or anything of the sort.

"Now we begin your training, bitch."

* * *

America wasn't always a good boy. To say otherwise couldn't be further from the truth. Now, Russia was actually rather disappointed in him. Even though he was mostlyobedient during the summit meeting, he was starting to get bratty on his walk.

"Hyuhhh- Aaaah, Masterrrr, I gotta peeee…" As Russia tugged on the leash, America stood his ground. His bare feet planted against the cement. "Lemme pee here!"

Russia did what he usually did when his bitch started getting rowdy. "_Nyet._" He'd show America that those moans weren't getting to him. With that, he yanked the leash, tugging the young nation forward.

America would've bashed his nose into the sidewalk if he hadn't caught himself as soon as he did.

"You cannot piss here. It is banned. Remember, slut?"

Yep. America had been on a number of walkies so far. But last time, someone had reported the lovebirds for public indecency, or something stupid like that. Unfortunately, America was not entitled to the right to pee in public, no matter how valiantly his Master had fought for him. So, if he did it again, Russia and America would get evicted from the neighborhood.

Never mind America represented the very land he pissed on. Oh well.

"We go to park instead," Russia snapped, tugging on the leash once more. That was enough to get America walking again. Well, more like waddling, since it felt like his bladder was the size of a beach ball.

America nodded silently in response to Russia's command, bobbing the golden retriever ears atop his head. Ah, yes. Those ears.

Russia had sewn them into his scalp. Having him wear a headband with the ears attached just wasn't _right!_ Ruffling America's hair and feeling the band would completely ruin his suspension of disbelief. He needed America to be a purebred bitch.

Of course, they were still a little tender. But that only made it more enjoyable to tug on America's ears as punishment. His dog ears, that is. He'd cut off his human ears too… but as far as Russia knew, there was no way to do that and keep America's hearing intact.

He'd also sewn a tail at the base of America's spine, too.

"Nmmh- But what if I-!" Just as they were making their way out of the neighborhood, America squeezed his legs together and let out a pathetic whine. But alas, the telltale tinkling revealed that he didn't make it. Only for number-one, though.

Russia had to hurry. Right after the conference, America said he felt he needed to doo-doo. (Exact words.) And Russia really liked that thong his pet was wearing. Piss stains were easy enough to remove, but as for shit… Well, tough shit.

"Shut your cocksucker and hold it!" Russia ran through the crosswalk, dragging America behind him. Fortunately, he could walk faster now, since he wasn't holding in as much piss. There was still a good amount sloshing around inside him, though.

America was definitely going to get a UTI from holding his pee like that, but fuck it. He'd do anything to make Master happy. "O-Okay! I'm tryiiiing! Mmmhhh… B-But I can feel my poopy trying to come out!"

Soon enough, they were at the park. It was dark, it was mostly empty… It was perfect. Russia quickly found a secluded spot for himself and his pet.

"You. Shit. Now."

With a nod, America pulled off his panties and handed them to Russia. He crouched down, whimpered, and let it all out. "Auuhh! He squeezed his eyes shut, and then…

_Bloop. Psheewblllpttt. _

He shuddered like a wet leaf as he pushed out that big brown log. It'd been piling up all day. Even Russia couldn't believe how huge it was. Then again, he loved giving America treats whenever he was a good boy. It's only logical he'd have big shits as a result.

However, those treats weren't always foodstuffs.

While America was panting like a bitch, releasing the rest of his piss and waiting for his asshole to stop stinging, Russia had taken a bottle of lube from his jacket's pocket and started fondling himself.

Poor little America should really know better. His back was facing Russia, and he was occupied with… well, peeing. It was the perfect opportunity to stab him in the ass.

Which is _exactly_ what Russia did right then.

"AIIYEEE!" screeched America. He struggled for a moment, since his ass still hurt from that gigantic poop, but eventually submitted to his fate as a human-dog hybrid fleshlight.

Snarling, Russia pushed America's face into the damp grassy ground, fucking his asshole like no tomorrow. "Good! Take it, bitch! Scream for me!"

And America _screamed_. Hell, he screamed louder than that golden retriever when Russia tore its ears and tail off. However, America was screaming in a pleasured way.

At least, until Russia pulled on his tail. And no, that wasn't a euphemism for Florida. Russia pulled on America's_ literal_ tail. This made him scream even louder, and not in a pleasured way. He sounded exactly like a dog getting its tail pulled.

So Russia aimed his thrusts right into America's g-spot, so he could scream with both pain and pleasure just like the stupid little whore he was.

"LOUDER, BITCH!" _Slap._ "You wake up whole fucking town! Nngh- _Sooka._" Russia started to pull on America's hair, his fingernails digging into the younger man's scalp.

Irises rolling back, America squealed like a pig getting slaughtered alive. "HYAAAHNNN~!" Just a few more thrusts from Master, and that was enough to totally push America over the edge.

But Russia didn't pull out as soon as he came. Suddenly, America felt a surge of warmth flooding into his anus. It definitely wasn't cum. It was lighter, bubblier, kind of like Budweiser.

"A-Aaahh… Master… are ya peein' in my poopy-hole?"

"_Zatknys._"

And so America shut his mouth. In fact, he really liked being used as a portapotty, so he wasn't complaining. Not like he had the right to complain at all, though.

Suddenly, a terrible stench filled the air. It was even worse than piss. It was even worse than shit, even though America's was still right there in the grass and flies were using it as a nightclub.

But anyways, it smelled like a sewage truck collided with a swarm of wildebeests, and then the ensuing shitstorm was left to fester for months. And also garnished with rafflesia.

From out of the park's woods came a pack of hobos. There were about three or four of them, because one was missing an arm and half his face was really burnt.

_They are going to try and take my bitch,_ Russia predicted. To show that he was a force to be reckoned with – well, he was a fucking _country_ after all – he kept his dick buried inside America, and shot the stinky old homeless men a glare as they came closer.

"Hey, sluts." One of the men, completely unaware that he'd just stepped in steaming human doody, glanced down at the two. "Nice bitch ya got there. Mind if I take her for a ride?"

America's anus clenched up as he was misgendered.

Yes, Russia had been conditioning him to get turned on by such a horrible thing...

* * *

Master's voice was like a hypnotist's and a drill sergeant's rolled into one.

"Stop. Stop the crying. Why are you crying, bitch?"

Although Russia was repeatedly tearing down America's defenses, until he was nothing more than the very antithesis of land of the free and home of the brave, that nation kept trying his hardest to stand back up.

His attempts were worthless, but it was actually rather sexy to watch him fail.

"Master, I- I know I said I wanted a relationship like this, but… That one guy the other day, he called me your girlfriend, and that's-"

"…is there something wrong with girls, shithead?"

"N-No way! Not at all! But I still didn't like-"

He pulled on America's hair, hard enough to completely lift him off his feet.

"WRONG, BITCH, WRONG! There is everything wrong with being a girl! You are weak, you cry too much, and even your bladder is a weak ass bitch. You are a girl in every aspect. Ha! You are even worse than a girl!"

Now, of course Russia didn't _really_ believe a lick of what he was saying. Nobody who grew up with two sisters (even if one had an incest fetish) should be allowed to spew crap like that and keep their man card.

But damn, it sure was enjoyable seeing America popping a boner over sexism. _Bozhe moy_, what a freak.

"Y-Yeah… I'm… I'm a… girl…"

* * *

"_Da._ No need to be gentle, she likes being used as toilet. See?" With that, he pulled out. America's juicy boycunt reflexively let out a big nasty fart, spewing hot piss-cum onto the ground.

The half-hobo chuckled and crossed his arms. Well, at least he attempted to. It looked more like he was trying to cover his manboobs with his arm. "Heh, sweet. I call her mouth!"

With Russia overlooking the spectacle about to take place, America's big gaping butthole was now ripe for the picking. Two more men positioned themselves behind him, and shoved both of their grimy willies up in there. America's anus was still lubed up, so it was all good.

Meanwhile, the one-armed man jammed his cock down America's throat, who didn't even try to put up a fight. It was a tad difficult for him to keep America's head steady, for obvious reasons, but he managed.

All of a sudden, one of the hobos realized something.

"Waaait a minute now! She's got a dick!"

Russia was just about to say something snarky and trans-positive in response to that, when the one-armed hobo made another, more disturbing realization.

"Who cares about the dick, she's got dog ears! Coming right outta her head! The fuck is this?!"

The one-armed hobo was about to ask Russia for an explanation – even though he was feeling a little tipsy anyways – but then, he felt someone's hand crushing the shoulder of his good arm.

That someone was Russia, of course. "_Da._ She is a bitch, so she have ears and tail of a bitch. Is there problem with that?"

Yes, there was indeed a serious problem. There was one more hobo, completely excluded from the orgy. And America had no more open fuckholes. Well, except for his eyes and (human) ears, and maybe his nostrils too, but this wasn't that kind of fic.

The hobo grabbed Russia's scarf, and before he could fight back or scream for help or even do anything at all, he was shoved to the ground. "_Chert_…" He clutched his forehead, and although it ached, he couldn't feel any blood… Not like that was a big deal, being immortal and all. But still. Force of habit, or something along those lines.

He was extremely disoriented though, no doubt caused by his collision against the ground. In his haze, he swore he heard America screaming for him…

"MMFGHN! _Mngh- _Noo! PLEASE! D-Don't hurt mas- _Mmnfhh!_"

Russia blinked his eyes several times, as if that would rid him of his concussion. He was completely oblivious to his surroundings. All he cared about was his pet's safety. It sounded like he was forcibly shut up after screaming for his Master.

And if that was the case, then… well. Time to do some damage.

"AmerikaaAAAAH?!"

Or, at least, Russia had _intended_ to get up and do some damage. Unfortunately for him though, he was presently incapacitated by that hobo's dick in his ass.

Wait. Hold on. He needed to think about this situation.

Now, when those tramps first showed up, Russia had intended to step back and let them have their way with America. It wasn't as if nations were affected by STI's, so it was a win-win situation.

Key words being _step back_.

Well, if Russia somehow got involved in the orgy itself, that would've been fine too. As long as it was something nice and pleasant, like throatfucking America, while the hobos wrecked his pet's ass or toyed with his nipples. Or any sort of combination, really.

Needless to say, Russia hadn't expected nor was looking forward to his own ass getting wrecked.

"Aww, fuck yeah, take it ya fuckin' faggot," the old tramp drawled, a trail of drool slipping from his lips and landing in Russia's hair.

The Russian dug his fingernails into the soil, desperately trying to crawl away from the disgusting piece of scum _raping_ him. "_Nyet!_ _Nyet!_ Uwaaaah- Get out, you shit! GET OUT!"

"Haw haw!" The one-armed man flashed a thumbs up at his friend's conquest. "Mmnh- Looks like we got two for the price o' none! Whoaa…" With a shudder and a groan, he released his ooey-gooey jizz down America's throat. Ahh, he felt like he was 17 years old again…

Even though America's dickey was so hard it could pierce motherfucking diamonds, Russia's vaguely resembled a limp, obese earthworm.

Until his very own dom daddy started ramming against his prostate. That really got Russia going, much to his dismay. He glanced over at America, who was _still_ getting ravaged by those hobos, and let out a sigh of utter defeat. Although it sounded way more like a really gay moan.

"Awright, bitch!" The man slapped his hand against Russia's asscheeks, watching them jiggle for a good few seconds. "I want ya to squeal like a pig!"

It felt so good… Narrowing his eyes, Russia bit down on his lower lip and attempted to shoot a death glare at the hobo raping him. It was slightly difficult, considering he was getting fucked doggy-style. "L- Like hell I will, shitcunt."

"Hyuuuhhhn!" That was America, just about ready to cum. The two hobos pounding his pusspuss hollered ferociously as they peaked, and that drove poor America over the edge.

Hearing America scream was just enough to make Russia moan like a wanton tart, and spew his cream between his thick thighs. And as Russia tightened up, the rapist hobo let out a really loud "woop woop" and squirted his baby gravy deep into him. And the green grass grows all around all around, and the green grass grows all around.

"Welp." The one-armed man tried to cross his arms again. He didn't seem to understand he couldn't cross his arms like _normal_ people. All people are equal, but some people are more equal than others. "I s'pose we're done here. Now, if ya'll ever come back here, we gonna want a Round Two. This here's our turf. Got it?"

Silence.

America was the first to break it. "Y-Yeah. Sure." Slowly, he got up onto his knees, eventually regaining the ability to stand. And while the hobos weren't paying much attention, he gave them the fucky finger. Even though doing that served absolutely no purpose whatsoever.

It took a good while for Russia to get back onto his feet as well, especially considering it'd been quite a long time since his asshole got ransacked like that.

The two nations turned their heads and stared at the homeless gang, only to receive a collective glare in response. It was pretty clear that they had to leave right now, lest they were dragged into yet another round of violent dicking.

"F… Fine. We will go." Russia stumbled over towards America, retrieving his leash from the ground and clasping it to his collar. And before he forgot, he quickly snatched up the piss-stained thong as well. He really liked it, after all.

Neither looked back.

Russia released a heavy sigh as he and America neared their neighborhood. "So. We cannot use the park, either. Well, unless we bring shotgun!" He took out the housekeys from his trousers' pocket (thank god they were still there, he'd forgot to check after that fiasco) and led America inside.

"Heh, yeah," America chuckled nervously, shaking his hips lightly to make his tail wag. "I…" His dog ears would've drooped if they could. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so fucking sorry. Master, if you ever… y'know."

Russia stared at him. This didn't sound good at all.

"I don't want something like that to happen ever again. Okay, I don't really care if it happens to me, but I… god. I should've done something while you were getting raped. So, Master, if you want me to end this relationship, it's fine. As long as you don't get hurt again."

The older nation took a deep breath. He could see where America was coming from. It wasn't like he wanted the relationship to end because Russia was too harsh on him. He was legitimately concerned for his Master's safety. Russia was an attractive, youthful-looking man, it was inevitable that someone would try and take advantage of him during one of his and America's public fuckjams.

Or, he would've understood America's concerns, if he wasn't obviously popping a boner while talking about his Master getting raped by a hobo.

"Fuckin' bitch," Russia grabbed the younger male by the throat, and shoved him into a wall. There. Now he knew how it felt when he was pushed onto the ground. "Shut up. Shut your whoremouth! I thought you were stronger than this!"

"Nngh- W-What?!"

"Ha! You are giving excuse. You do not really care that I was raped. You are having erection! Slutty fuckin' cunt. Tell me the real reason why you want to cut off our relationship! Before_ I_ cut off your _boyclit!_"

. . . . . .

"Because… I'm… terrified of you."

Russia loosened his grip. "What?" He cocked his head. "I thought you wanted that? For someone to hold complete control over you?"

America was blubbering now, yet his cock was still at full mast. His body was literally a walking contradiction. Except he wasn't exactly walking, since he was pressed against the wall and getting choked by his Master. "I- I don't even know what I'm saying, but I really think it's gone too far!"

And his concerns were addressed with a violent beatdown that lasted for a good minute or so.

He fell unconscious. Blood was pooling from his swollen eyes, his nostrils, his lips. Bruises and scratchmarks stained his body. At some point, Russia had even bent his arm backwards.

He made no attempt to fight back. Clearly, he didn't _really _want the relationship to end.

"You don't really want to leave me," Russia sobbed, cradling his pet in his arms. America couldn't hear him. He'd wake up in a daze after a while. Maybe in a few hours. Or perhaps tomorrow morning. "You… You were stressed out, that is all. You were cranky. You did not think clearly."

He laid his palm against America's half-lidded eyes. He looked dead. But he wasn't. His heart was clearly beating. Faster than normal, actually. "I promise, America. You _can_ escape, if you want. You could have escaped before we even started." Russia chuckled lightly, his voice like Christmas bells. "But you didn't _really _want to stop tonight. Not yet."

It felt like Russia's throat was trying to stop him from saying any more.

"…you were only spewing bullshit. Ah… Ahahaha… I'm so fucked up."

His hands were filthy.

* * *

It's Friday. 6:30 sharp.

Or in other words, it's morning walkies time for America! It was slightly difficult for him to walk without limping, since his puckered little bootyhole didn't feel so little anymore. In fact, it felt as if he'd taken two huge cocks up there.

But Russia had assured him they were playing with dildos last night and got a little too carried away. That also explained why America had all those bruises and scratches. And also why his arm was broken.

"Mmmm, Master! I gotta go poopy right now!"

"Hold it, slutbutt!" Russia commanded, quickly finding a secluded area for the both of them. This was their first time walking to the beach together, and hopefully it'd be a regular spot. The neighborhood and park were out of the question.

America wasn't sure why they couldn't go to the park, though. He asked Master, only for him to completely avoid the question. Oh, well. If Master didn't feel the need to explain about it, it probably wasn't very important.

_Pfftbththplllp._

He wondered why Master was limping, though.

* * *

**THE END.**


End file.
